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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173947">as long as it takes you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeminhyuk/pseuds/baeminhyuk'>baeminhyuk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ITZY (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, vague interpretation of time travel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:56:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173947</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeminhyuk/pseuds/baeminhyuk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She's not here for Ryujin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hwang Yeji/Shin Ryujin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>#GGFLASHFIC</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>as long as it takes you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for my friend muff, whom i cherish. written for #ggflashfic :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Yeji sees her as soon as she walks in, smooths her hand over the phantom creases on her fancy blue dress, this hand-tailored gown she spent a ludicrous amount on specifically for this gala. Gala sounds inaccurate. It’s more of a party. Someone offers to take her coat, and someone else offers her a glass of white wine. </p><p class="p1">Shin Ryujin meets her eyes from across the room a second time since she entered, and Yeji ignores it and walks in the other direction. </p><p class="p1">She’s not here for Ryujin. </p><p class="p1">(She wishes she were here for her.) </p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">She’s in the middle of a conversation with Lia, who owns this sprawling mansion in Pyeongchang, with its polished floors and its high ceilings. Family money. The kind of family money Yeji has here. The kind of family money Ryujin does, too.</p><p class="p1">She should stop thinking about her. </p><p class="p1">“Have you met everyone?” Lia asks. </p><p class="p1">Yeji presses her lips together, then stops, afraid to ruin her lipstick. She says, “No,” because… well, she hasn’t. </p><p class="p1">Not in this world. Not in this timeline. </p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Ryujin looks better than Yeji remembers. Better up close. Better when she's smiling, whiskered cheeks and teeth, and looks like she’s trying to remember…</p><p class="p1">No. </p><p class="p1">No, that’s not what’s happening. </p><p class="p1">Yeji nearly falls to her feet when Ryujin says, “Have we met before?” in this incredibly sincere way that makes her think…</p><p class="p1">People don’t remember her. That’s part of this whole arrangement. That’s how it works. She can shift undetected and leave without a trace. It’s important. </p><p class="p1">She simply says, “No,” all sweetly, and absolutely should not say, “I’d remember you,” at all, let alone in such a suggestive tone, but god, it’s impossible not to want her. </p><p class="p1">She always wants Ryujin. </p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">She’s considering smoking a cigarette, because maybe in this timeline she’d be a smoker, you know? It sort of feels like it suits the rich, entitled, socialite identity she has here. </p><p class="p1">When she’s standing on the balcony, Ryujin brings her another glass of wine — one she doesn’t exactly need — and she’s still looking at her like she’s trying to figure her out. </p><p class="p1">“I swear, I know you,” she says, and Yeji clenches her teeth, takes a sip of her drink and then swallows too hard. “And I have better game than that, so if I were just flirting with you, that’s not what I’d open with.”</p><p class="p1">Yeji leans against the railing, pushes her hair off her shoulder, tilts her chin up. “You’re not flirting with me?”</p><p class="p1">Ryujin grins a little, her short black hair blowing a little in the breeze. “I said I’m not <em>just</em> flirting with you.”</p><p class="p1">Yeji lets out a laugh, asks, “What do you do, Ryujin?” because she wants to know what it is this time. </p><p class="p1">A doctor? A chef? God, there was this one timeline where Ryujin was a songwriter. Drank too much coffee and locked herself away in her home studio everyday until she’d sit herself across her lap and convince her to come to bed. </p><p class="p1">“I’m the founder of this organization,” she says, and Yeji freezes, her glass halfway to her lips, and…</p><p class="p1">They’ve talked about this before. One night four timelines ago. When Ryujin was finishing her psychology dissertation. </p><p class="p1">“Is that so?”</p><p class="p1">Ryujin nods, plays with the lock of her silver charm bracelet. A constant. It makes Yeji feel better. “We’re trying to get art resources in more schools to help with kids’ mental healths, basically.”</p><p class="p1">She says, “Oh,” like she’s impressed — she is impressed, even if this isn’t entirely new to her. “That’s really amazing. You must be proud.”</p><p class="p1">She’s pushing it. She knows she is. She knows feeling pride — having people tell Ryujin that they’re proud of her — is a thing for Ryujin. Something she craves. Something she needs. Yeji shouldn’t be doing this so soon. She knows they’ll end up together. They always end up together. </p><p class="p1">She shouldn’t rush it. No matter how much she wants to. </p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">She’s starving. She sneaks into the kitchen and convinces the chef to give her a double portion of the roast beef and mashed sweet potatoes. She’s sufficiently charming, leans against the counter and stays out of the woman’s way. </p><p class="p1">This reminds her of when she was a kid. Growing up in a small town in the countryside with Ryujin. Chasing each other around the kitchen until that one time she hit her head on the corner of the counter and her mom told them not to do it again. </p><p class="p1">Reminds her of when she was 17. Staying home for the first time entirely on her own. Ryujin coming over because she got scared. Her first kiss with her — with anyone — in the kitchen when she was pouring them hot barley tea.</p><p class="p1">Reminds her of that party in high school, when they went to one that focused on the arts. When Ryujin was going to be a performer. Ryujin holding her hand and leading her through the crowd. Telling her she looked pretty and then standing between her knees when she was sitting on the counter. </p><p class="p1">Ryujin walks in, now, sees her, watches her. Yeji swears that Ryujin runs her fingertips over the edge of the island, her brow furrowed like she knows the same things she does. </p><p class="p1">“Looks like we had the same idea,” she tells her, and Yeji just nods instead of revealing that, you know, there’s really no such thing as coincidence.</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Someone arrives just as Ryujin’s leaving. Yeji's got her eyes on the door because she knows that this person was supposed to be here by now. She watches Ryujin pull on her pleated coat while this boy blows through the door in a suit that looks half as expensive as the clothes of anyone else attending this event.</p><p class="p1">He walks past her like he doesn’t recognize her at all. Good.</p><p class="p1">Yeji rests her hand on Ryujin’s arm as she pushes a hand through her hair, before she turns around to go. </p><p class="p1">“Will you meet me somewhere?” she asks, and it’s too bold, and Ryujin will get the wrong idea, and it’s…</p><p class="p1">“I know I should refuse,” she tells her, and yes, that’s usually part of this, too. Ryujin’s not exactly easy to get. “But why not?”</p><p class="p1">Yeji smiles, gives Ryujin an address and tells her that she’ll be there in a couple hours. Ryujin tells her that she’s gonna have to maybe explain some of the alluring, mysterious stranger energy she’s exuding. </p><p class="p1">Yeji looks at her from under her lashes. “I promise I’m not that mysterious,” she replies, instead of telling her that they’re not strangers. Not at all.</p><p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">A few months later, Ryujin asks her if she believes in love at first sight. </p><p class="p1">Yeji smiles a little too widely, nods slowly.</p><p class="p1">It’s definitely not the same, but god, that’s what she feels like every time she sees her. So perhaps that's close enough.</p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>title is from the keshi <a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/2XpmzywSGH1OILU0mxSHBy?si=Fv3qN04ATdK2NBC-PZmnDQ%20rel=">song</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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